


Merry Whatever

by Demerite



Series: Trektober 2019 [14]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anonymous hookup, Christmas, M/M, offscreen sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:37:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demerite/pseuds/Demerite
Summary: "Leonard, this is Jim Kirk. Jim, Leonard McCoy, we work together." Phil introduces them."Hi." Jim offers a hand for Leonard to shake, and it's only his upbringing, complete with proper manners, that allows Leonard to take it because now he's heard that voice, he's sure of it. The eyes might have been a coincidence but after the things he'd heard said in that voice in his bed, he's not going to be forgetting anytime soon.





	Merry Whatever

**Author's Note:**

> For the Day 15 Prompt: Anonymous Hookup, but really this is more about the comedic value of being introduced to someone you've already had sex with. 
> 
> I want it noted that all my knowledge of hospitals and how they work comes from studying and working in the Australian healthcare system. I know jack shit about how things work in America. Sorry not sorry.

"Really Jocelyn, Hong Kong?"

At the other end of the phone line, Leonard hears his ex-wife sigh. "I know." She says, actually sounding sympathetic. "But Clay's boss insisted and we didn't want to split the family for Christmas so we're making a holiday of it. It will be good for Joanna, you always talked about how important it is for children to experience different cultures, and Clay promised he'd take her to Disney."

Leonard bites down hard on the urge to start swearing. Of course Jo's already been told about the trip, never mind anyone asking his opinion first. She'll be over the moon excited in only the way a nine-year-old who gets to go to Disneyland at Christmas ever can be, and he's not going to ruin that for her. Which someone, either Jocelyn or Clay, knew when they told Jo about their plans.

Leonard sighs, “When do you fly out?” He asks because he’s got a couple of days off coming up before Christmas, maybe there’s a chance he can see Jo - even if just for a few hours - before she leaves since they’re not going to get Christmas Day. Usually, she spends the morning with her mother and stepfather and Jocelyn’s overwhelming extended family, and rest dropped off at his apartment in the evening, full of food and candy and excitement, and they have their own little celebration with just the two of them.

“Tomorrow afternoon.” Jocelyn tells him, swiftly crushing that idea. He has an early shift tomorrow, before his time off. No chance to see Jo before she leaves. “We’ll be back on the twenty-ninth, I’ll have her with your for New Year’s.” Jocelyn promises.

That’s something at least. Not as good as Christmas, but at least this way he still gets to see her. He tells Jocelyn he has to go, which is true, he’s at work on his break and he’d only called her because she’d sent him a message asking, saying only that it was about Christmas and was important, but also he doesn’t want to keep talking to her right now. Jocelyn promises to have Jo call him that evening, and tells him that she’ll send him their itinerary so he’s knows what’s going on.

“Thanks.” Leonard mutters and hangs up on her before she can _dare _wish him a happy Christmas.

With a sigh, he puts his head in his hands and glares down at the staff room table, the surface of which is liberally scattered with pens, and paperwork, and informational pamphlets on upcoming professional development opportunities and a box of chocolates brought in my some grateful relative. He resists the urge to groan or swear aloud to vent his frustration, but it’s a near thing. He’d been really looking forward to being able to take Christmas day off, spend some time with Jo, and not have to think about anything but her for a little while.

“You okay?”

Leonard looks up to see Hugh, one of his colleagues in the ER, giving him a concerned look from across the room.

“Yeah.” He grunts, dragging a hand through his hair, “You got something for me?” Because he’s got a reputation for being a bit of a grump, which means that most people really only talk to him if they’re asking for advice on a case.

“Nope!” Hugh’s grin is warm, “The opposite in fact, all qui-” He cuts himself off at the glare Leonard levels in his direction, “Uh, all _calm _out there.“ He corrects himself quickly, leaning over to rap his knuckles on the wooden cabinet he’s leaning against.

Leonard doesn’t mutter ‘damn right’, but it’s a near thing. Hugh’s only been here six months, he doesn’t know all the superstition that tend to breed in small hospitals like this one, but he’s learning fast.

As if summoned by Hugh near-miss with the Q-word, the speaker above their heads crackles to life.

_“Category one, bay 3, five minutes.” _

“That’s my cue.” Hugh says, wiping his hands on his scrub pants. Category 1 is the designation given to the most severe cases, those requiring immediate attention.

Leonard stands from his seat at the table and follows him out. You can never have too many hands on deck.

Christine is already waiting for them by the doors to the ambulance bay, two other nurses who Leonard doesn’t know standing with her. Staff change fast in the ER that it can be hard to learn names and faces, especially when you’ve got so many patients to keep alive at the same time. He nods a polite hello to them, and Christine gives him one of her Worried Looks. She's the exception to the high staff turnover of the ER; they've known each other for years and she can always see straight through his professional facade.

As the ambulance pulls into the bay, Leonard resolves that if he gets out of here at a reasonable hour, he's going to go find somewhere to get a drink and not think about his problems for a while. 

~*~

There aren’t words to describe how terrible he feels when his alarm goes off. Leonard flails an arm in the direction of his phone and slaps at the screen until it shuts up. In the sudden silence, he lies very still, face pressed into a pillow, and tries to catalogue all the sensations he's currently being bombarded with to make sense of his situation. 

He's hungover. He's not surprised by this fact. He remembers going to the bar that is near enough to his apartment that he can walk home. He remembers ordering a drink and settling into a corner to glare at anyone who tried to come near him, unless it was one of the staff bringing him another drink when he ordered them. 

He doesn't remember how he got home. 

Leonard sits up, and the movement alerts him to a persistent low ache in his muscles that is familiar as it is perplexing. _Did he have sex last night? _

The lack of a second party in his bed suggests not, but the bottle of lube tipped sideways on the nightstand says maybe, as does the ripped, empty condom packet. 

He gets out of bed, and wanders, naked, through his apartment. There's no sign of anyone else, but his memories of the previous night are starting to come back. 

He can recall blue eyes and blond hair and a smirk that seemed determined to ignore his bad mood, and lips crashing into his as they stumbled into his apartment and nails digging into his skin and the sounds that he'd been able to tease from the other man, the whimpers and breathless moans and _he cannot remember the guy's goddamn name. _

The apartment is empty. Which is funny, because Leonard distinctly remembers an offer to make breakfast. 

He checks his phone. There's no new number in it. No name. 

If it weren't for his memories and the scratches on his back from short fingernails, Leonard would have thought he'd made the whole thing up. 

Still, if it lends his step an extra spring as he goes about getting ready for his day, that's nobody's business but him. He's got the day off before his early shift tomorrow morning, he apparently spent a good chunk of last night having sex with a mysterious and very attractive stranger. That's about as good as he can expect things to be. 

~*~

Leonard makes it to his early shift on time, but in a bad mood. He's no good at mornings. He tries his hardest not to growl at anyone, but Christine, angel that she is, can see he's not doing so well, and she comes back from her break with an extra coffee, which she passes to him while he's busy charting, and he's able to summon up a heartfelt and grateful smile for her in return. 

He’s able to lose himself in the rhythm of the shift after that, the familiar motions of assessment, treatment, paperwork. He hardly realises that it’s past time to head home until Phil finds him in the nurse's station when he’s writing up yet another medication chart.

“Leonard,” his boss says, “Go home. It’s 7 pm.” 

Leonard was supposed to finish at five. He finishes up filling out the chart and passes it back to the nurse waiting for it.

“Hey, Phil.” He stops his boss before he can leave, “You still need someone to work Christmas?”

“Yeah, but don’t you have Jo?” Phil looks justifiably confused, since Leonard had earlier asked for the day off.

“Her mom’s taking her to Hong Kong.” Leonard tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice. By the look Phil gives him, he doesn’t succeed.

“Okay.” Phil sounds doubtful, “I’ll put you on the roster. You want Christmas Eve too?”

“Sure.” The extra money always helps.

Phil logs on to the nearest computer and clicks through the roster to assign the shifts. “Oh, while I think of it,” He says, not looking up, “Chris and I are doing a Christmas thing for everyone at our place on Christmas Eve, very low key, don’t bring anything, but we’d love to see you there.”

Leonard shrugs, “I don’t want to-”

“If you say that you don’t want to trouble us, I swear I’ll put you on the overnight shift on New Year's Eve.” Phil says firmly, “We’re planning to let it just go all day, just drop in after your shift, you don’t have to stay long.” Phil raises his eyebrows at Leonard, “Otherwise New Year’s Eve still has a shift empty.”

Leonard resists the urge to swear at his boss, “Are you blackmailing me into socialising?”

“Do I need to?” Phil asks.

Leonard raises his hands in defeat, “Fine.” He says, smiling despite himself, “I’ll be there.”

“And I’ll find someone else to work that dreaded shift.” Phil saves the roster, “Christmas eve and day are all yours. Now _go home._” 

~*~

True to his word - and somewhat in fear of Phil’s scheduling-based threats - Leonard shows up at his boss’ house after work on Christmas Eve. It’s a perfectly normal suburban house, and despite never having been there before he finds it easily enough from the address Phil had given him - although the cars and one motorbike parked outside are a giveaway too.

It’s Chris who opens the door when he knocks, grins broadly and ushers him inside and into an understated but tastefully decorated living room, where various people are talking and drinking and eating. Leonard dimly recognises people from work; Hugh is leaning against the far doorframe in conversation with a pale, blond man who can only be Paul, Hugh’s husband that they’ve all heard so much about. He looks exactly like the photos Hugh’s shown them all.

Chris offers him a beer, which Leonard gladly accepts, and then disappears somewhere, presumably in search of his husband, and Leonard is content to fade quietly into the background and just watch the goings-on for a little while. He always feels kind of strange socialising with work people outside of work, like he doesn't quite know what to talk about. 

"Leonard, I don't think you've met Jim, have you?" Phil is at his side suddenly, and Leonard jumps a little and shakes his head no. He's heard of Jim of course; Chris' godson is apparently both a genius and a menace, but they've never met, and Leonard doesn't even know what he looks like. Phil isn't the type to go showing off family photos at work most of the time. 

"No, we've not met." He confirms. 

"Hey, Jim!" Phil calls out, and a man with his back to them engaged in conversation with Christine and a radiologist Leonard thinks he knows but can't be sure of, turns and starts to move in their direction, only to look up and meet Leonard's gaze and _oh shit. _

Leonard wouldn't forget those eyes if he had a hundred years to try, let alone just a couple of days since he'd last seen them. 

"Leonard, this is Jim Kirk. Jim, Leonard McCoy, we work together." Phil introduces them. 

"Hi." Jim offers a hand for Leonard to shake, and it's only his upbringing, complete with proper manners, that allows Leonard to take it because now he's heard that voice, he's sure of it. The eyes might have been a coincidence but after the things he'd heard said in that voice in his bed, he's not going to be forgetting anytime soon. 

_Well shit. _

**Author's Note:**

> Want to know more about Trektober? Click [HERE](https://aishahiwatari.tumblr.com/post/188059640163/trektober) for the info post on Aisha's tumblr, or [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Trektober2019) for the AO3 collection to read our fic. 
> 
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://demerite.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
